


Blossoms of the Court: The Loves and Triumphs of Venus

by seraph7



Series: Blossoms of the Court [3]
Category: 16th & 17th Century CE RPF, 17th Century CE RPF, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aphra Behn is a 17th century BAMF, Comedy, Court Masques, Drama, F/M, auditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraph7/pseuds/seraph7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Court Wit Tyrion Lannister is commissioned to write a magnificent masque for Charles II and Catherine of Braganza. But even he couldn't have foreseen how much trouble would ensue as egos clash, temperaments boil over and rivalries grow. </p><p> For Barbara Villiers Palmer, the King's Chief mistress isn't about to let a minor detail like Queen Catherine get in the way of her being Queen Bee. Even if she has no discernible musical talent and can't act either! </p><p>When newcomer Sansa Stark takes over the lead role of Venus with only weeks to go before the performance, Barbara is furious to be snubbed and schemes to get her own back...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Commission

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I came up with this crossover/fusion I knew Tyrion **had** to be a Wit
> 
> Time line is around Droit de Seigneur if you're curious

Tyrion Lannister held the bumper of wine to his mouth and kept pouring it down his throat, gullet working smoothly. The rest of the group of men cheered him on, chanting 'Half-man! Half-man!" and thumping the table in a most martial fashion. He set down the bumper and emitted a huge belch that positively echoed through the tavern. 

"Good Gods, he actually did it!" declared one man in disbelief and more than a hint of admiration. "That bumper was nearly as big as he was!"

Tyrion grinned. "Pay up, lads!"

"I don't know where he does put it! Lannister must have a hollow leg!" Rochester good-naturedly slapped his money on the table. "Ye owe me a drink out o' that so don't forget!"

"Damn it Lannister, you're costing me a damned fortune-" grumbled Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst rooting in his pockets for his share of the wager.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Bucky, Lannister won the wager fair and square.”

"They loved your play, Lord Lannister. I thought they were going to keep us there fore'er clapping and cheering!" Harry Savile said with much enthusiasm clapping him on the back.

"I glad my humble scribbles have managed to please my discerning audience." he said with a courtly flourish.

"Your drunk as skunks audience." Buckhurst grinned.

"Making a night of it, then?" Savile asked. "It's about time we had a celebration! Maybe we should go round the Tyrell's salon later and tell Margaery Tyrell all about it. Might cheer her up a bit."

"What would cheer her up most of all would be to get rid of Joffrey the stinker!" said Bucky who's mood had brightened at the mention of the lovely lady. None of them were remotely surprised by this. Sackville had a very discreet flirtation going with Margaery which was the worst kept secret in their gang of wits, everybody knew about it though no-one would have told. 

"Well, I won't argue with you there! Gods know why Mace Tyrell is so insistent she marries the bastard! I wouldn't let him ten paces near my chambermaid, let alone a gorgeous wench like our Maggie."

Tyrion smiled drunkenly, Gods that wine was headier than he thought, he told himself. At this rate he was going to have to be carried home.

* * *

"Another one of your scribbles, Half-Man? Charles grinned as he came across a hungover Tyrion in St James's Park accompanied by his usual pack of spaniels. "Why you are certainly prolific these days, aren't ye?"

The dogs jostled Tyrion eagerly, nosing his and licking him friendly as if he were almost one of them.

"Good morning Sire! You will excuse me if I am not of my best? We had a bit of a celebration about my latest work, and right now I feel rather delicate!"

Charles waved that all off with a genial smile. "Of course! Glad to hear it went well! James and I enjoyed it very much. Most funny. Well done!"

No matter how rude or scurrilous the satire Charles usually had a sense of humour about them and rarely took offence. All in all Tyrion shrugged off the fact that Charles called him ‘Half-Man’ since he was a more genial royal patron than he had any right to expect.

"Shall I dedicate it to you, your Majesty?" he enquired with a mock innocent air.

Charles laughed. "I'm sure I and my subjects will have no problems recognising ourselves. You have rather a knack for painting a clear picture of a person even if it happens to be less flattering than one would like."

"I can't help but feel you're going somewhere with this, your Majesty?" Tyrion observed, looking up at the king. Damn the Stuart men for being so tall! At least Charles wasn't a giant like the forbidding and very serious Prince Rupert.

"I would steer clear of your sister for the while, Lord Lannister. She was rather aerated about one of your latest." Charles warned, with a twinkle in his dark eyes. His generous mouth twithched like a naughty schoolboy.

And well she might be. Tyrion and his pen spared no one, his corrupt golden sister least of all.

_And I haven't revealed half of what I could do of the secrets Cersei hides behind her regal facade...how you would recoil in horror if you knew…_

"Why, your Grace, it was some of my best work." He retorted, as sharp of wit as ever. "'Twould be a crying shame to keep it under wraps!"

"I always notice you are particularly vicious about your relatives." Charles observed.

"I know them so well. How could I pass up such inspiration, my lord?" Tyrion said in his sweetest tones. 

Charles laughed heartily. "Oh Lannister what am I to do with you? Come walk with me, I have a proposition for you."

* * *

"Actually I'm glad I caught up with you, Lannister! I had a favour I wanted. A commission, if you will."

“I want you to collaborate on a masque to celebrate the wedding anniversary of Catherine and myself. Cheer her up a bit after her most recent …misfortune if you will. A magnificent Masque to bring glory to our realm. D'ye think you are up to it?” Charles asked.

"I could certainly attempt something suitable, I imagine. Thank you for thinking of me, Sire."

"I'm sure you will come up with something to make us all proud and put my preening cousin Louis on his mettle. I've approved budget all the details are with Bab and you can draw from the privy purse. We'll get Aphra in to collaborate with you, you two always work well together. That is when you're not trying to get her into bed with you."

"Aye well one has to try, your Grace, doesn't one?" Tyrion retorted, amused by Charles's transparent matchmaking.

 _Well this was interesting..._ Tyrion perked up as he considered the proposal. _No cost spared. This was promising indeed. Charles was evidently wanting to make an impression on a scale to be noticed internationally._

“You have quite a talent, Lord Lannister, just try not to insult too many people this time will you Tyrion?”

He bowed low. “As always, your Majesty your wish is my command. I’ll start at once.”

Tyrion oofed as Charles clapped him on the back and went on his way, surrounded by his exuberant dogs. Damn the man, did he not know his own strength?

“That’s what I like to hear, Lannister!” he called back, quickly striding out of sight with that familiar long loping gait.


	2. Chapter 2

The King's Company are looking for volunteers to help with the masque, said the sign hung up on the door. Most people walked straight past it, but she was interested enough to take notice.

Sansa looked interested, stopping before the sign and reading with interest. "What sort of things would we be doing?"

"Helping with music, set design, dance choreography, costumes...that sort of thing. I think Eve Ravensbourne is helping out and she'd welcome the company. You know how shy she is." Eve would probably assist with teaching parts and solos, she seemed to come alive in performance in a way she shrunk from in real life.

"I'll sign up, why not? I can always help with music and things." The though of it appealed to her, she always enjoyed make-believe and stories, and from what she'd seen of the theatre she was starting to enjoy that as well. Margaery and Willas had been kind enough to take her to the theatre a coupe of times during the evening and she'd had such a fun time. Why not join in, even as an amateur at Court?

Willas saw a chance to able to spend more time with her especially if she had decided to work behind the scenes. He could get to know her, convince her of his feelings for her in time.

_I was only going to go back to Highgarden and mope. Why shouldn’t I stay here for a while and get to know her better?_

He took the plunge before he could think twice about it. "Sign me up as well. Why not? It should be fun, should it not?"

The pleased look on her pretty face told him that he had made the right decision.

* * *

Sansa got a message to meet with the members of the King's company who were going to assist with producing the masque for the Court. She was swiftly introduced to a whirl of faces, Valentin a handsome Frenchman who was in charge of the choreography; Charles Hart, the leading man of the King's company who would be taking a leading role in the production; Aphra Behn who was co-writing with Tyrion Lannister; John Dryden who was acting as some kind of consultant ('getting in everyone's way' grumbled Tyrion with a roll of his mismatched eyes); Danny Kendrick who was helping to compose the songs with Evie and Madame Marianne who had been comissioned to create the most divene costumes for the cast.

Late in the day, the group were still trying to find suitable roles for the courtiers. The task was proving harder to execute than would be thought, as all sorts of issues cropped up. Tyrion had never thought when he blithely accepted the commission from the king just how stressful this was going to be. At this rate he was going to be old before his time. He only hope his hair wouldn’t start thinning like his cursed father Tywin.

We haven't even properly started the production yet, he thought with an internal groan. 

As usual Barbara Palmer was proving to be the bane of his life.

"I don't care!" Tyrion scowled. "I'm not casting that bitch as Venus!"

Honestly, casting his mistress in a masque designed to celebrate his marriage to the queen was not one of Charles's best ideas, but Tyrion had to work with what he had been given. How Catherine tolerated his Majesty's flirting and his careless constant philandering he really didn't know. The woman must have the patience of a whole pantheon of saints!

Despite knowing that attempting to reason with him was a futile exercise, Valentin and Willas tried it nonetheless. The mere thought of having to work with Barbara for any extended period of time was motivation enough.

"Barbara Palmer is the king's mistress. Everyone expects her to get the star role." 

"So?"

"We're new here. It might be best if we don't attempt to bend the status quo, at least at the moment."

Sansa agreed. "She could make life hard for us if she doesn't get her own way, Lord Lannister."

"I don't care who she is sleeping with, she's not getting it!" He noticed the pained glance Sansa shot Eve, which instantly angered him. Why did they expect him to tiptoe round some spoilt arrogant madam? He wouldn't do it. Not him! They'd be asking him to cast Cersei next, despite the fact that she would want nothing to do with it if she knew he was involved and it was below her dignity as a duchess to indulge in such tomfoolery. "Why should I cast a woman who not only mumbles on stage so you can't hear a word she says, but couldn't sing in tune if you held a gun to her head?" 

Aphra was inclined to agree, loathing Lady Castlemaine just as much. "She mangled the simple tune she sung for the audition so badly; I actually didn't know what it was."

"Maybe we could try and make the role a little less technical for her-" Dryden ventured cautiously.

"How?"

"We could cut some of the role-"

"Cut what?" cried Tyrion in outrage.

"It was just an idea, Lord Lannister" Willas said hastily. "Forget he said anything."

"Let's just make one thing clear." Tyrion frowned at them all, leaving them in no doubt just how serious he was about this. "I am not cutting one word, one note, one step from that role. If she isn't capable of playing Venus them I will not cast her."

"Why are you being so stubborn, Lord Tyrion?" Hart asked mildly, looking up from his sketches.

"That woman is the rudest, arrogant woman I've ever met. I actually do believe I hate her. Her attitude was appalling. She was late for her audition and she had the gall to talk through Frances's Stuart's very good audition."

"Would you tolerate someone like her in your company?" Aphra challenged.

Hart had to agree, however reluctantly, "Aye perhaps you have a point there, no I damn well wouldn't."

Sansa sighed as she dipped her quill and scratched out some notes. "I do agree with Lord Tyrion, I really do, but to be honest I'm not looking forward to telling her she hasn't got the part."

John Dryden leaned towards Charles, who sat back amused as the argument raged on over his head.

"What do you think, sire?"

"Barbara is a trial, no doubt about it. You'll find it infinitely easier to let her have her own way. Saves tantrums all round." he said airily, dstracted by the parade of scantily clad ladies in waiting wafting about onstage in front of them.

Eve instantly saw what was going on. Charles would do anything for an easy life- so anything he could do to stop Barbara's fabled foul temper. As for sacking her from the production, which was going to be easier said than done...

She looked carefully at his Majesty and then Tyrion.

"So you think Barbara should take the starring role. The masque is meant to celebrate your bride..." Tyrion asked the king.

"You can always sack her if she's no good, can't you, Tyrion?"

"Very well...you're all just encouraging her, you know-" Sansa got up to leave. "I'll go and let her know after I've collected the winged sandals from the shoemaker. I still think you're making a mistake casting her." She said, as she reached the door. "But it doesn't really matter: Barbara always gets her own way. I learned that very swiftly."

* * *

   
The moment Sansa was gone, Tyrion turned to the group. 

"That's who ought to play Venus." He pronounced.

"Lady Stark?" Valentin mused, chin propped up on his hand. "Interesting-"

"Why not? She's gorgeous, she sings like an angel. I've heard her in the Duchess of York's household. Good little actress and she knows the lines as well. She's perfect." Catching the look between Willas and Charles, Tyrion sighed. "What now?"

"If you were to choose anyone at all to win the part over Barbara-"

"She's far more beautiful than Lady Castlemaine, even you can see that?" burst out Tyrion. "She makes Barbara Palmer look like an old hag. Even my sister is going to have to look to her laurels!"

"Yes. That's exactly why they hate each other. Barbara's insanely jealous. Always has been, but poor lady Sansa seems to inspire her to new heights of vindictiveness." 

Tyrion understood the situation very well though it was unsaid. Lady Castlemaine was feeling insecure in the king's affections and the arrival of a gorgeous new girl was bringing out the worst in her nature.

"They're bitter rivals. Barbara bullies her quite unmercifully." Willas explained. "Honestly, the other ladies would just give her a hard time about it. That's why she was so keen to help out behind the scenes-"

"She doesn't have to compete..." Alessandro said softly. It was all so clear now.

It made Tyrion a little sad. _Oh Lady Sansa, how quickly you learned to dim your light._

"Alright, I'll give her the part, much against my better judgment. She'd better be word and note perfect by the first main rehearsal, otherwise she will get the sack- mistress of yours or no mistress of yours."

Charles shrugged. "Fair enough."

Tyrion rather cynically suspected that Charles privately enjoyed all the drama Barbara created. _At least he manages to soothe and subdue her in bed. I have to deal with the aftermath!_


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa pinned up the notice with a sigh. As usual Barbara had got her own way despite mangling 'Greensleeves' beyond repair. At one point, Willas had leant over and hissed wickedly in her ear.

"What the hell is she meant to be singing? Any ideas, Sansa?" 

Sansa had seriously had to think about it as Barbara decided to add some ill-advised ornamentation they had certainly not agreed on during the coaching session. Even gentle shy Eve fumed in the corner, looking as if steam was about to erupt from her ears. She nearly rose from her chair but Valentin pulled her down.

"It was meant to be 'Greensleeves'. She wrote on a scrap of note paper.

Willas was still not hearing it, judging by the look of his face. "Are you sure?" he wrote back in his looping generous script that took up half the page, so different from her neat small handwriting.

"Absolutely." She wrote back feeling like a lady's maid passing love notes in a play. She glanced at him while he was innocently writing a reply. His mouth twitched mischievously like a schoolboy definitely up to no good.

"Do you want to put her out of her misery, or shall I?" the note read. Despite herself, Sansa felt her mouth twitch and tried to control herself. The last thing she wanted was to end up laughing in front of Barbara. Frankly, she didn't have a death wish!

"Be my guest-" she wrote back. "Don't fancy being shouted at, thank you."

"Lady Castlemaine, thank you very much-" Willas said hurriedly.

Her lip pouted in a most belligerent fashion, unwilling to relinquish the spotlight just yet, enjoying all the attention firmly on her. "But I haven't finished the song yet!"

"God’s bones!" Sansa groaned under her breath. "She's got another three verses left! 

“I think I'm losing the will to live!" Aphra complained, head in hands. "Gods, make it stop!" 

"No really, that will be all, thank you." Tyrion raised his voice to drown her out, taking charge before she bulldozed her way through more painful verses. "I think the panel have heard more than enough!"

Barbara pouted, but he stood firm, refusing to back down. She scowled as she swept up her music and sailed out of the room like a galleon in full sail.

* * *

As soon as she left the room Tyrion turned to Sansa, Aphra and the rest of the group.

"Thank God that's over!" Aphra said with unconcealed relief. "God's teeth, I think my ears are bleeding!"

Sansa picked up her notes with a sigh, shaking her head. Who knew that auditioning could be so difficult?

"I know we're not professionals but the standard of some of these courtiers!" Willas said, with some feeling.

"Who did you think was the worst?" Tyrion couldn't help a wicked grin spreading over his face.

"Barbara!" They all burst out.

For someone who was so terrible, she really did have a high opinion of her own talents, even if no one else would agree with her.

"'Greensleeves was all my joy'" Tyrion imitated her exact tones while the rest of the panel had tears of mirth welling up in their eyes.

"Stop it, Lord Tyrion, she'll hear you!" Sansa was at least trying to control herself and remain professional.

"I don't care!"

"You know, you are so lovely when you smile. You should smile more, angel. I would not have you sad for the entire world." Tyrion's hand brushed a stray golden red ringlet from her bare shoulder with all the delicacy of a cobweb's caress. His mismatched eyes were fixed on her, and very bright.

Sansa froze, hardly daring to breathe.

"You're a good lass." He looked away and Sansa fancied that a shadow of disappointment just for a moment passed over his distorted face. "I hope you can look past all of this-" he gestured at his visage in a deprecating manner. "-and our house's enmities to become friends."

She wanted to protest that he wasn't so bad really. Once she had got to know him she no longer thought about his looks just seeing him. Sharp clever witty Tyrion with his golden tongue like his sibling's hair but she knew that he hated lies and would be able to tell she was fibbing. 

She couldn't help comparing every man she met to Willas, no matter how unfair it might be. Most of them came up wanting.

Aphra's dark eyes were watching them close with a speculative gleam. She'd spotted the slight tension in Lord Tyrell's face as Tyrion had touched her, and the momentary rigidity from Lady Sansa, as if she were too polite to ask him not to touch her. 

Tyrion knew she was just dying to say something and glared at her over Sansa's head.

 _Don't you dare say a word, Behn!_ His mismatching eyes seemed to say in silence.

She raised a dark arched eye brow as if to say: who me? But Tyrion was not remotely fooled. The last thing he wanted was for someone as perceptive as Aphra to see exactly how he felt about the Lady Sansa. He knew a hopeless case when he saw one; the moment he'd done it he'd regretted his impulsive action. 

I am fool for a fine-looking girl and Sansa Stark is one of the most beautiful to grace this court. Even Charles wants her, so whatever made me think that I would ever have a chance?

 

Tyrion's lodgings

"Lannister, you need to pull yourself together." Aphra told him roundly as they commiserated over a bottle of white wine at his apartment.

"You know the trouble with you is that you get these crushes on girls and then you get all despondent when they don't return your feelings." Aphra said with a wise little tilt of her head. "Oh Tyrion, what are we going to do with ye?"

"Is it so much that someone could see me for who I am. Ignore my height, which I can hardly help?"

"Perhaps the woman you seek is right in front of you, only you are too blind to see it." she said, finishing the rest of her wine. "Are ye going to stop bloody wallowing and fill up my goblet like a gent?"

Tyrion was about to ask her exactly she meant by that, but Aphra had already swiftly changed the subject and did not seem inclined to bring it up again.

* * *

Sansa didn't know what to think of that moment in the audition room, Tyrion's hand as he brushed away the stray ringlet. She'd never even thought of him that! He was a friend.

I can't forget who he is, a Lannister. They hate and despise our family. Her father had never trusted any of them speaking most disparagingly of Lord Tywin their patriarch and Jaime Lannister.

Traitors! He would say darkly whenever someone reminded them of the Southron house. They turned their back on the old king as soon as it suited them, and buttered up to the new regime.

* * *

The first rehearsal day was already proving to be stressful. It didn't help that as the star of the show and with time ticking down to the performance and all eyes on them it was perfectly obvious to everyone that Barbara did not know her part at all.

"She's meant to be off-book by now. Lord Lannister will do his nut when he finds out!" Lady Betty whispered bitchily to Frances Stewart as they waited in the wings in diaphanous lilac silks and cute winged booties. "God's nightshirt! We haven't even got through Act One and there's four more to go!"

"It's a shame. I really wanted that part but Lady Sansa told me in private that they had to give her the part as she caused such a fuss during the auditions."

"She would!" Bridget sneered.

" 'S all very well casting someone because they're the king's bit on the side and actually requiring them to have some talent. Everyone's eye is going to be on us, and we're going to look like fools!"

Lady Betty was inclined to agree with Frances's scathing opinion even if she were honest her friend wasn't exactly right for the role either. It was a very complex role, demanding a wide range and an agile Italian-trained voice; one that only a talented and accomplished singer could do justice to.

"Well here comes Half-man Lannister himself and he doesn't look pleased, does he?"

"Let the fur-flying commence."

* * *

Tyrion was starting to get weary with how little progress the group had made. 

"Let's go from 'Venus from the Waves sits playing' with Venus, Aurora and the Hours. We really need to work hard if we're not going to fall behind. His Majesty is going to want to see a polished performance in a week so we must crack on." Tyrion announced briskly.

"I want to crack Act one by two o clock. Lady Sansa, if you could accompany and conduct the orchestra at the harpsichord while Mr Kendrick is copying out those extra viol parts I would be grateful."

The Hours started their number in lovely four part harmony while Sansa accompanied them at the harpsichord with discreet silvery flourishes of notes. She had just finished an elegant cadenza when there was a deathly silence.

"Er...Lady Castlemaine, that was your cue. I think you missed it-" Sansa said politely

"No, I didn't!" Barbara snapped back rudely.

Tyrion didn't have patience for this, not when they were running behind. "Actually you did. Let's go again."

As she started her ornate solo the others stared at each other bemused by the sounds she was making.

"I don't know what she is singing, but it ain't 'Beauty from the Waves'!" hissed Lady Betty wickedly as the Hours all corpsed with laughter. 

Tyrion glared at them as if he would quite cheerfully like to kill them all.

"Watch out Lord Lannister is going to flip in a second."

"Lady Castlemaine may I be as bold to ask what you are singing?" he said not even attempting to conceal his sarcasm.

"My solo, Beauty from the Waves. Didn't you like it Lord Lannister?" she replied smugly, fussing with her curls.

Tyrion and Willas caught each other's eyes and struggled not to say anything. Willas noticed that Tyrion had a vein going in his forehead that looked rather alarming.

"How about if we try a number you do know? What about your duet with Mercury; Angelic Visions?” A simple lyric melodic duet for soprano and tenor, surely Barbara couldn't get that wrong?

"I was fine-" Barbara protested glaring at Sansa sat at the harpsichord trembling and trying so hard not to draw the royal mistress's ire. Willas's heart went out to her. Barbara was nothing but a bully!

"Bobbins, my lady Castlemaine." He said firmly. "If you knew the song, then you wouldn't be making such a pig's ear of it." Thank God Danny Kendrick or Evie weren't here to hear her butcher their melodies! They would have been mortified!

She glared at him, but Willas was unaffected by her wiles.

"It's too difficult-" she pouted. "You've written too many notes! Only someone like La Seraphina could do sing it. I'll strain my throat." She delicately cleared her throat, quite obviously looking for sympathy.

Aphra looked highly amused by that. "Strain her throat! As if she hasn't had so many cocks down it!" she hissed to Valentin, making him shake with suppressed laughter.

It was only a matter of time before Lannister seriously lost his temper and when he did it was going to be volcanic. While Tyrion may profess to despise his family and want nothing to do with them, he shared the infamous Lannister temper.

"Stop wasting my time, Lady Castlemaine! Either you start putting in the effort, or give up and let someone else who is capable have the part? Which is it going to be?"

Barbara's mouth gaped in outrage that anyone would dare to address her like that.


End file.
